Prayer

If Only . . .

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If Only Picture

I’ve been thinking about regret a lot lately.

Out of all the negative emotions I’ve experienced in life, regret is the most hopeless feeling. It is dark and heavy and sends my mind in circles.

I should have . . .

I never should have . . .

If only I knew . . .

Why didn’t I . . .

For the kind of sorrow God wants us to experience leads us away from sin and results in salvation. There’s no regret for that kind of sorrow. But worldly sorrow, which lacks repentance, results in spiritual death. — 2 Corinthians 7:10

If our choices were the result of sin, at least we have repentance and the hope and freedom that comes with it. But what if we thought we were doing God’s will? What if we were earnestly doing the best we knew how? What do we repent from then? From ignorance? From blind faith?

I can’t find a bible verse that has an encompassing answer of how to deal with this kind of regret. I wish there was because holding onto one sentence of scripture that addresses something I’m struggling with gives me peace. The only thing I can do is pray. And when I do, it all comes back to a few simple things.

Trust God.

It seems like the ones who struggle with regret the most are those in the middle point of their lives. It’s not the beginning of their story, but also not the end. We don’t know what the future holds, how God will work it all out to good. But we can trust that He will, one way or another. And even if we are at the end of our story, we don’t know how God will use our past to affect the futures of the ones we love or had influence over.

And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who[a] have been called according to his purpose. – Romans 8:28

Learn from Our Mistakes.

It’s never easy, and not always fair, the way we learn from mistakes, especially the ones that involve relationships. My oldest child is in some ways a wonderful experiment, and the younger two benefit from the mistakes I have made in parenting her (although not always in a way they enjoy!)  I can’t get caught up in the guilt, though. If I want my kids to learn from their mistakes, I need to model this by learning from mine and moving forward – not in circles.

We all stumble in many ways. Anyone who is never at fault in what they say is perfect, able to keep their whole body in check. – James 3:2

Focus on the Good.

Sometimes the windiest roads have the most beautiful scenery, and the twists and turns allow us to slow down and take it all in. Most of us have more to be thankful for than we have to regret, we just need to remind ourselves, each and every day, what those things are.

So then, just as you received Christ Jesus as Lord, continue to live your lives in him, 7 rooted and built up in him, strengthened in the faith as you were taught, and overflowing with thankfulness. – Colossians 2:6

I can do that. Trust, learn, be thankful. It’s not easy, but it’s a whole lot better than living in the ghost town of regret. After all, God has gotten me this far. I just need to keep turning the pages.

 

Fear is a Thief – But Love Redeems

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My daughter just had her first piano recital. It didn’t turn out quite the way I expected, but it was a night we won’t forget.

Sarah is 7-years-old and started taking piano lessons last June. With about a month off in August for summer break, she’s had a total of five months of lessons. In this short time she has made impressive progress, and absolutely loves playing the piano. After spending her entire life being dragged to countless sporting events for her two older sisters, Sarah has found her “thing.” When she learned her first piano recital was in December, she was initially nervous, but then quite excited. At long last, she had an event for the family to watch.

We arrived 15 minutes early at the church where the recital would take place so that Sarah would have a chance to practice on the unfamiliar piano before it was time to perform. Her eyes widened when she saw all the people gathering in the sanctuary, and her little body literally began to shake.

“I can’t do this, mommy!” she hissed. I attempted to reassure her, but she only became more anxious. We left the sanctuary and found her piano teacher, Mr. Stram. He could tell by one look at Sarah that she was terrified. I hoped he would have the magic combination of words to ease her fears. But he didn’t. She was still scared, and nearly in tears. He assured her that she didn’t have to play, and told me that if there was no joy for her in playing, then we shouldn’t force her. We were to signal him if she changed her mind while we watched the recital, and then Sarah could go up front and play.

Our family of five sat and waited for my mom and mother-in-law to arrive. Beside us was the single wrapped rose I had bought to give Sarah after her performance. “Who is that for?” Sarah asked. I explained that I had brought it to give to her after she played. “So I can’t have it unless I play?” she asked, her brow creased. I assured her that she could have the flower whether she performed or not, but I would really love to see her play. Sarah looked sadly at the rose, her bottom lip quivering.

The pianists performed by age, starting with the youngest. When it came time for Sarah’s spot, Mr. Stram paused and glanced our way. The look of terror returned to Sarah’s face, and she shook her head no. Unfazed, Mr. Stram announced the next pianist. Sarah sat back and lowered her head, and giant tears streamed down her cheeks. “I’ve never had so much pressure in my life,” she choked out.

“It’s okay,” I said, “you don’t have to play.There’s always next time.” I put my arm around her and held her close.

The reassurance from our family as we sat in the pew with Sarah seemed to have little effect. The silent tears continued. “I want to play,” Sarah said, her little voice full of pain, “but I just can’t.” My heart ached for her, and I understood what she meant. Fear held her in its dark grip, and she was paralyzed by it. I knew fear well, especially the fear of getting up in front of people and having all eyes on you. My heart ached for her, and for my powerlessness to take her tears away.  So I did the only thing I knew to do, the only thing that I could do as we sat in that pew, watching other people’s children get up on the stage and play.

I prayed. Silently but whole-heartedly, I pleaded with God. I asked Him to help Sarah overcome her fear. As the recital went on, and Sarah’s tears continued, I asked Him how this moment could be turned into something good even if Sarah didn’t get on the stage and play. I didn’t want the bitter pain of regret to be what Sarah remembered about this night.

Then an idea came to me. We would wait until the recital was over, after everyone had left the sanctuary, and I would ask Sarah to get up on the stage and play just for our family. She would still have her performance, and it would be good practice for future recitals.

Near the end of the concert, Sarah’s first-grade teacher – who is also Sarah’s favorite teacher of all time – walked into the sanctuary with her daughter. Sarah’s entire demeanor changed. She nearly bounced out of her seat and smiled, then pushed her way out of the pew to run and give Mrs. Mercer a hug.  

“I thought it began at 4:00 p.m.” Mrs. Mercer whispered to me as she found a seat in a pew behind us. Both Mrs. Mercer and her daughter are piano students. I didn’t know if they were supposed to play, but I could see the disappointment on Mrs. Mercer’s face. My own dismay in the evening was replaced by empathy. Sometimes things just didn’t go as planned, no matter how much we planned, or how good our intentions.

Sarah pulled on my arm. “I think I can play after the next person is done,” she whispered.

“O.K.,” I said, a bit surprised by her change of heart. It seemed the sight of her favorite teacher had bolstered Sarah’s spirits.  “Just give me the word and I will raise my hand so Mr. Stram knows.” I wasn’t sure if she could play out of sequence, but it was worth a shot.

The next pianist finished. “Ready?” I asked.

Sarah shook her head, and sat back in her seat. “Maybe after the next one.”

We had the same conversation three more times. Finally, the recital was over. Mr. Stram invited everyone to the hospitality area for refreshments, then came to our pew and signaled Sarah and I over to him. “I was thinking,” he said, “how about if after the sanctuary is empty, your family moves to the front pew and Sarah plays just for you.” Sarah nodded her head excitedly up and down and I smiled, relieved that Mr. Stram and I were on the same page. He made his way back up to the front, and Sarah followed him. She pulled on his sleeve. He bent over and she talked animatedly. The next thing I saw was Mr. Stram conversing with Mrs. Mercer. She smiled and nodded, and then took a seat near the front of the sanctuary. The room was nearly empty now, and I picked up on enough of the conversation to understand that, at Sarah’s request, Mrs. Mercer would also be staying for the private recital.

sarah-piano

Our family moved to the front pew. Sarah jumped up on the stage and sat at the piano. In her brand new dress and with her back straight as a fine arrow, she focused on her sheet music and played, beautifully and flawlessly, for a small group of people who adored her. After she was done, she grabbed her music and jumped off the stage and ran to me, a huge smile on her face.

“Do I get my flower now?” she asked, her eyes lit up like stars. I handed her the single pink rose, and held back my tears. Sarah beamed with simple joy, and maybe a bit of pride. The tears, the fear, and the disappointment were gone. Love had stolen the show, and its performance cannot be outdone.

And we know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to his purpose for them – Romans 8:28

A Parent’s Prayer

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My husband and I have been taking a class based on the book Grace Based Parenting by Dr. Tim Kimmel. One of the topics covered early in the book is different parenting styles. One of the most popular styles among Christian parents seems to be “fear based” parenting. With “fear based” parenting, the parents are literally afraid of everything, and therefore try to protect their kids from the world. Dr. Kimmel states that he would rather raise strong kids than safe kids. This might initially sound like you’re giving up safety and feel counter-intuitive, but reading it reminded me of an experience I had a few years ago.

One night I couldn’t fall asleep because I found myself anxious about my then 4-year-old daughter, Sarah. We had put her in a loft bed sooner than I felt comfortable with, but did so in order to create the space needed for her to share a room with her older sister. Sarah had been sleeping in the loft bed for nearly 9 months without incident. But for some reason, I couldn’t get the fear of her falling off the bed out of my head that night.

Frustrated, I prayed to God to please keep her safe, and to not let her fall out of her bed. I got up to go the the bathroom, and on my way back to my bed I clearly heard a voice in my head say, “But what if I did?” My heart stopped. “No, God. You wouldn’t do that.” I shook the thought and the voice away, convinced that it could not be God. Moments later, I heard a scream and then crying from down the hall. I ran to my daughters’ room to find Sarah on the floor, sobbing. Her older sister was beside her, comforting her. “Sarah fell out of the bed,” Katie said.

I picked Sarah up and looked her over, and asked her if anything hurt. She shook her head no. There were no bruises. There were no broken bones. Not even a scratch. Sarah described what she remembered. She had woken up as she “bounced” down the steps to her bed. But, she said, her blanket had kept her safe. She had been wrapped up in her blanket, much like a little burrito, and those layers had cushioned her fall and protected her from any injuries.

As I tried to fall asleep that night, I pondered why God allowed this to happen. My daughter was fine, but I had prayed that she would not fall. Why would God allow that to happen? It finally dawned on me that God may have allowed it to happen, but He had protected her. Wrapped safely in her blanket, he had provided a safety net for her fall.

It changed the way I pray. I no longer just pray that God will protect my children from the world, but instead I pray that He will be with them through it all. Bad stuff is going to happen – we live in an imperfect, sinful world and each day presents its hazards. The important thing is not that God protect my children from anything bad ever happening, but that He be with them through it all. I pray that my children will put their trust, their hope, in Him. With His comforting Spirit wrapped around them, they will survive the bumps and grow stronger in the storms. There will be times that they will be hurt – either physically, emotionally or mentally. But with Jesus, nothing can harm their soul. They are His.

For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other created thing, will be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord. – Romans 8:38-39